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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925231">Stay (Stay Stay)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam'>Signsofsam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends To This) [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Slice of Life, with a tiny smidge of angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:41:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signsofsam/pseuds/Signsofsam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Buck’s been staring at his loft’s ceiling for who knows how long. He’s supposed to be sleeping, because he’s <i>exhausted</i>, and everything hurts and sleep helps, but he can’t seem to settle. He can’t seem to get comfortable, to get to any position where his leg doesn’t hurt or the stitches on his forearm don’t hurt or his ribs don’t hurt-there is nothing to satisfy all the aches from the tsunami. For not the first time, he wishes he’d taken Eddie up on his offer to go back to his house after that first night, because then he could be laying on Eddie’s bed, which, while probably not better than Buck’s, came with those memory foam pillows that were absolutely perfect.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends To This) [25]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>9-1-1 Tales</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stay (Stay Stay)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title is from <i>Stay Stay Stay</i> by (obviously) Taylor Swift.</p>
<p>This story takes place smack dab in the middle between <i>This is the Worthwhile Fight</i> and <i>When Sparks Fly (Oh Baby Smile)</i>, and did it pull me out of my writing slump? Why yes, yes it did.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buck’s been staring at his loft’s ceiling for who knows how long. He’s supposed to be sleeping, because he’s <em> exhausted</em>, and everything hurts and sleep helps, but he can’t seem to settle. He can’t seem to get comfortable, to get to any position where his leg doesn’t hurt or the stitches on his forearm don’t hurt or his ribs don’t hurt-there is nothing to satisfy all the aches from the tsunami. For not the first time, he wishes he’d taken Eddie up on his offer to go back to his house after that first night, because then he could be laying on Eddie’s bed, which, while probably not better than Buck’s, came with those memory foam pillows that were absolutely perfect. </p>
<p>Is it too late to maybe call Eddie and beg to stay over? He’s pretty sure he sounded pretty pathetic when he talked to Eddie earlier in the night, pretty sure Eddie wouldn’t ever tell him no.</p>
<p>Even though they kissed in Buck’s kitchen not two days ago?</p>
<p>Even though there’d been the awkward goodbye later that day, because Eddie had to get to his shift?</p>
<p>He glances at his phone, and it’s almost one in the morning. Eddie’s probably on his way home, probably more exhausted with Buck, what with the searching and rescuing and scouring for survivors and victims of the tsunami alike, and did he really need his (boyfriend?)-did he really need Buck holding him up from his own sleep?</p>
<p>No, he couldn’t do that to Eddie. He’d figure it out on his own, and if not, he’d trudge down to the kitchen and take one of those sleeping pills he hated.</p>
<p>He gives himself another hour before he pushes the comforter away and manages to sit up, preparing himself for the task of making it to his bathroom. He needs to sleep. </p>
<p>Sleep will make things feel better (Eddie would make things feel better. Or Chris. But he’s going to settle for sleep because his Diaz boys aren’t here with him). Sleep will give his muscles a chance to rest.</p>
<p>He’s slow down the steps, each one making his leg shake, and he’s glad he brought his phone because he’s pretty sure he’s going to sack out on the couch. Maybe watch some of those late-night infomercials he became so invested after his surgery? (No, Evan, don’t do that. That’s a slippery slope into the depressive funk he found himself in last time, and he doesn’t want to be that person again.)</p>
<p>There’s a knock at the door. </p>
<p>It’s nearly two in the morning, and instead of finding his pills, he’s shuffling to the door.</p>
<p>Eddie’s standing there.</p>
<p>He looks as tired as Buck feels, but he smiles when Buck opens the door, holding up a bag at Buck’s questioning look. “You realize it’s very, very early, right?” Buck says softly, stepping out of the way to let Eddie in, closing and locking the door behind him. “Weren’t you at work?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, just got off,” Eddie answers, setting the bag on the island and shrugging out of his jacket, toeing off his shoes. He’s wearing a pair of sweats and an LAFD t-shirt, and Buck honestly just wants to wrap him in a hug and breathe him in and let him melt Buck’s pain away. “You sounded rough on the phone. And you said you hadn’t eaten much today. And that you missed Bobby’s spaghetti, so Bobby and I packed you up some.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t have to come by; I know you’re exhausted.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, I am, but so are you. You obviously haven’t been sleeping well; I thought we could have a snack and try to catch a nap together.”</p>
<p>“What about Chris?”</p>
<p>“I’m picking him up from Abuela in the morning.”</p>
<p>And it’s awkward, for a minute, them standing in the kitchen, not sure what to do because they’re in this weird in-between of are-they-aren’t-they, and Buck wants to kiss Eddie but can he? Is that-</p>
<p>“Hey babe?” </p>
<p>And when did Eddie get so close, hand on Buck’s cheek? When did his eyes get impossibly brown? </p>
<p>When did he <em> know </em> that “babe” was exactly the right thing to say?</p>
<p>“Ye...yeah?” Buck stammers, and Eddie grins as he leans in to kiss him. </p>
<p>How did he know that’s exactly what Buck wants?</p>
<p>The kiss is slow and soft, and Buck’s hands clench at his sides before they tangle into the back of Eddie’s t-shirt.</p>
<p>For a moment, Buck’s leg doesn’t hurt.</p>
<p>His side doesn’t hurt.</p>
<p>His arm doesn’t hurt.</p>
<p>Nothing hurts.</p>
<p>And then he takes a step, putting most of his weight on his bad leg, and he stumbles straight into the man he’s trying to impress.</p>
<p><em> Damn it</em>.</p>
<p>Eddie keeps him standing though, bringing him over to one of the bar stools. “I’ll heat you up some spaghetti,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into Buck’s hairline. “I take it your leg’s been giving you issues today?”</p>
<p>“Everything’s been giving me issues today,” Buck answers. “I didn’t realize I sounded so bad on the phone.”</p>
<p>“Not bad, babe, just like you were having a rough day, which is kinda expected considering you just went through a tsunami three--four--days ago.” He goes back to reheating the spaghetti, and Buck can’t do anything but watch, because Eddie is here, taking care of him because he thought Buck sounded rough on the phone. His heart flutters just thinking about having that again, having someone who cared that he was doing well and was okay.</p>
<p>Having someone to care for in return.</p>
<p>Eddie sets a bowl in front of him, and the smell of it brings back memories of helping Bobby cook in the kitchen, the rest of the firehouse waiting eagerly to taste Bobby’s famous spaghetti. </p>
<p>He’ll get back there soon, he promises himself.</p>
<p>He scarfs down the food, grinning when he catches Eddie watching him, grin growing when Eddie’s cheeks redden and he looks back at his own bowl. </p>
<p>It feels like old times, Buck and Eddie just hanging out, with the added newness of young love.</p>
<p>It honestly feels <em> perfect</em>.</p>
<p>Buck does the dishes, waving off Eddie’s protests, but he lets Eddie put away the leftovers.</p>
<p>Afterwards, Buck feels the tug of sleepiness, <em> finally</em>. He heads towards the steps, deciding he can definitely negotiate them to get back to the warmth of his bed, stopping when he feels Eddie’s hand catch his own. He glances back, a questioning, searching look. “Stay? At least for tonight?”</p>
<p>“I’d like that,” Eddie says, giving Buck’s hand a squeeze as Buck leads the slow, steady pace up the stairs. Eddie comes out of the bathroom without his shirt on, but Buck’s already in bed, too tired to even think about what fun he could have with a shirtless Edmundo Diaz. He does melt into the warmth of Eddie as he wraps around Buck, intertwining their hands to rest against his thumping heart as Eddie’s arm comes to rest over Buck’s side.</p>
<p>He shivers when Eddie breathes a kiss against the nape of his neck. “Go out with me? Not tonight, but...soon? A first date?”</p>
<p>The words are soft, hanging heavy in the darkness of the loft for only a moment before Buck’s whispered “any time, any day” joins them as his eyes flutter and he sinks into sleep.</p>
<p>He dreams of a young, blossoming love story-his own.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well that last sentence was one of the cheesiest things I've ever written 😬 and I blame it on all the romance books I've been reading lately.</p>
<p>So, couple things:</p>
<p>1. The Christmas story of this 'verse is written and proofed. Would you like it a) the week beginning the 14th or b) the week of Christmas? Tell me in the comments or let me know on tumblr. Which brings me to...</p>
<p>2. You can find me <a href="https://signsofsam.tumblr.com/">here</a> on tumblr. And finally:</p>
<p>3. Of a personal, fairly specific to the United States and more specifically to Georgia note: Georgia has two Senate run-offs on January 5th; one between David Perdue (R) and Jon Ossoff (D), and the other between Kelly Loeffler (affectionately known as Insider Trading Barbie-R) and Rev. Raphael Warnock (D). These run-offs give Democrats a chance to take the Senate, and is our only hope of getting meaningful legislation passed in the first two years of Joe Biden's presidency. <b>IF YOU LIVE IN GEORGIA AND <i><span class="u">WILL BE EIGHTEEN BY JANUARY 5TH</span></i>, MAKE SURE YOU ARE REGISTERED TO VOTE AND ACTUALLY GO VOTE ON THE 5TH. <i>THE DEADLINE TO REGISTER IS TOMORROW, MONDAY, DECEMBER 7th <span class="u">(AND YES, YOU CAN STILL REGISTER IF YOUR EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY FALLS BETWEEN 12/7/20 &amp; 1/5/21!!!)</span>.</i> IT IS IMPORTANT FOR YOUR VOICE TO BE HEARD AND FOR YOU TO VOTE FOR YOUR FUTURE.</b></p>
<p>(Stepping off my stool now; that is all.</p>
<p>Thank you in advance for all the kudos and comments; I really, really appreciate them.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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